October 25, 2002

I am not a barhopper.

Kaly stopped by unannounced tonight and we headed out on the fly to meet with her friend Stewart from England. Headed to Blue Ribbon Bakery but Stewart wanted a "real bar" so we turned down the street a few blocks to Chumley's, one of the last speakeasies in New York City, never having had a sign outside the door. The article forgot to mention not to go during prime drinking hours -- it was too much of a frat house, too smoky and smelly for Kaly so we stopped in a Brazilian restaurant bar where I had my sapphire and tonic, Stewart with his red wine, and Kaly with chamomile and flan. Off again through the neighborhood for a nice little walk along Bleecker to Bank, a charming old block with lots of little single family brownstone homes, to Corner Bistro -- by now about midnight -- for a cheeseburger, fries, and drinks. Funny stories and more meandering to Patchin Place, and then to my house. Late night for me, later night for them -- they went off for another drink! Tomorrow I'll meet them again for my first meal at the famed Oyster Bar in Grand Central Terminal.

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